


Adventures in Street Rats and Questionable Parenting

by blandbanana



Series: NCT Street Rats AU [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Attempt at Humor, Baking, Cuddles, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kun is overworked and very tired, More tags to be added, Multi, Nightmares, OT21 (NCT), Parent Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, Parent Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Parent Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Parent Lee Taeyong, Parent Nakamoto Yuta, Parent Qian Kun, Parent Suh Youngho | Johnny, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sensory Overload, Soft Suh Youngho | Johnny, Street Rats, Stress Baking, Theft, dance, doyoung is jeno’s dad period, lol help him, more ships to come but they’re a surprise, stray kids cameo, street rat au, the rest of NCT are their adopted children, yes i made taeil a kid don’t come @ me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24292483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blandbanana/pseuds/blandbanana
Summary: They’re a family, of outcasts, misfits. But they have each other, and that’s all they need. Together, they aren’t outcasts anymore.or otherwise known as the street rats au i thought up at 3 a.m. while slurping on ramen and listening to my dog snore.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Platonic Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: NCT Street Rats AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753696
Comments: 26
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1; Fire

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the street rats au no one asked for lol. there are seven ‘parents’, pretty much the adults that started their little home and take care of the kids. lmk if i should post ages, if that’s confusing anyone! the other 14 members of nct are kids. they all have their own backstory! you’ll know eventually ;D also, each chapter is loosely connected, some may be sequential and i will specific that if so but pretty much these are just connected one shots from this little au i thought up. anyway, enjoy!

“We have a problem!”

Ten looked up from his laundry folding to give his ward a deadpan stare. “And it’s another Tuesday. What about it?” 

“I set the shed on fire. On accident!” Donghyuck said quickly, a bit too quickly. 

Ten looked up, towards what he hoped would be God, willing to save him from the living hell that was raising these children. He closed his eyes, counted down from five, and exhaled. 

“What do you _mean_ you set the shed on fire?” He exclaimed, his voice straining by the amount of sheer stupidity his kids do _on a daily basis,_ and how he could never truly get mad at them for it, could never raise his voice at them more than a high accusatory remark. He could never find it in him to truly yell, not after everything they’d gone through. 

That didn’t stop him from being irritated though. 

“Well- uh, Yangyang dared me to do that thing the street performers do, the twirling the fire thing? And then Jeno said it wouldn’t be a good idea and Yangyang said I was a wuss if I couldn’t do it. So, yeah? But it’s kind of on fire. And Jeno and Pa are trying to get it put out. Yeah. And so, we kinda need you?” Donghyuck said nervously, urgently pulling him out towards the shed behind their factory building before Ten could scold him any more. 

There Jeno stood, fearful and with tears in his eyes, clinging to Doyoung for his life. There was a pang of empathy in Ten’s heart when he saw the terrified boy, he knew what he had come from- he had every right to be scared. Taeyong and Johnny, who had just arrived as well, began to put the fire out with fire extinguishers. It wasn’t bad, not nearly enough to damage the factory or even bring the shed down, but there was reason for alarm. If they boys hadn’t come and told them, they might have not have been so lucky. 

Once the fire was doused, Jeno was pulled inside by a gentle Doyoung and Johnny, who were trying very hard to ease the boy’s fears and get him to stop crying. Taeyong turned to Jaemin, Yangyang, and Hendery- Ten didn’t even know they were there- and promptly began scolding them. They all hung their heads, having been on the receiving end of Taeyong’s lectures before, and they knew they weren’t getting off easy. Ten could see Kun coming from a distance, a look of tired frustration on his face. 

Ten turned to Donghyuck, who was pouting at him with his big doe eyes, and Ten shook his head sternly. “Nuh-uh, kid, pouting won’t save you this time.” Donghyuck let out a ‘hmph’ and reluctantly followed his guardian when he guided him back inside the building. 

Life with these kids was hard. 

———

Taeyong did not let it go very easily either. At their next family meeting, he informed everyone of the situation and warned them not to do it again. Ten shot an anxious glance at Jeno, who was looking down at his shoes. Doyoung caught the gaze and they spoke silently- something was up. Something Jeno wasn’t telling them. 

Taeyong finished up the meeting how he always did- by telling them that he loved them, and that everyone was here for everybody, no matter what. As everyone stood up, the youngest kids going out to do God knows what, and the older kids going to go do something probably dangerous and something the parents would definitely have to deal with later, Ten and Doyoung met off to the side of the large room, talking in hushed tones. 

When they confront Jeno, who was quietly following Renjun to the bedrooms, the two adults have a carefully planned approach. They asked him to come talk with them for a second, and Jeno lowered his head and nodded, leaving behind a concerned and annoyingly curious Renjun. 

They made their way to a more secluded part of the building- those were hard to find these days, with seven parents and fourteen teenagers living in the old, abandoned factory with them. They stopped, and gestured for Jeno to take a seat on the old crates littering the hall. He did, and let out a shaky breath before he started rambling faster than Yangyang on that stolen motorbike about a year ago. 

“I’m sorry that I’m being stupid and I’m sorry I hid it from you guys but I didn’t want you to be mad at me and now you know and you’re gonna hate me-“ 

Doyoung cut him off, shushing him quietly and reaching out to take his hand. “What are you talking about, Jen?” 

Jeno stopped, eyes wide and mouth agape. “You don’t know?”

“Know what, JenJen?” Ten asked, growing more concerned than he was originally. Jeno was always the kind of kid to tell the parents if something was wrong. Sure, he kept secrets about the dumb, and inevitably very dangerous schemes the kids came up with, but he never hesitated to tell them when something was actually wrong. His hesitance made Ten nervous. 

Jeno bit his lip, and muttered something quietly, something Doyoung seemed to hear, but Ten missed. He watched Doyoung pull the kid into a hug, watched as Jeno’s shoulders shook with the force of his sobs. Ten sent the parent a questioning glance, but the look Doyoung gave him told him all he needed to know. 

Ten knelt down beside the two, rubbing at Jeno’s nape. “Have the nightmares started again, baby?” 

A loud sob from the crying boy answered his question. 

Ten let out a sad sigh, before joining the hug, whispering nonsense to Jeno in hopes of quieting the cries. 

——-

Ten looked over the sleeping boy, who puffing out little breaths beside a tired Doyoung. He was stroking Jeno’s hair and singing gently- that song Jeno always liked, the one all the parents knew by heart, because it was his favorite. 

Ten sat next to the messy pallet, letting Doyoung’s soft tune distract him as he thought about Jeno’s past. It had been rough- his parents died when he was only five, in a house fire, and he was a foster kid for a long time. He was kind, and loyal, and the sweetest kid Ten had ever met. He was well-behaved (unlike their other demons), but that didn’t stop him from getting into mischievous shenanigans. They loved all of the kids equally, but they loved them all differently. Jeno was to be handled with care, Donghyuck was a kid who needed a firm hand. Jaemin needed physical contact, Lucas needed attention, and so on. Every kid was different, and Jeno was a kid who needed love, who needed soft lullabies to help him ward off the fiery nightmares. 

Ten thought back to when all this started. When he met Johnny, when they were both street rats and homeless kids. When they had met Taeyong, Doyoung, Yuta, Kun, and Jaehyun. When they slowly started to reach out to the kids they knew, and found. When they became parents at the age of 20, when they became a family of a whopping 21. They had a home. A home for all the outcasts and misfits, where they weren’t outcasts anymore. 

Ten got up from his squat slowly, (and painfully, he might add. He’s already getting gray hairs and back problems, what’s next? Stress induced heart failure?) He hears the sound of Chenle’s dolphin-like laugh, and Jisung’s scream, and he knows they’re doing something that a parent should probably be there for, but he is too tired, and what’s the point of have seven parents if one can’t take a rest every once and a while? 

As soon as his head hits the pillow on he and Johnny’s shared pallet, he hears the telltale sounds of Donghyuck’s light footsteps outside the door. He groans a little inside, but the place on his heart where Donghyuck wormed his way in tells him to shut up. He raises his voice just a little, as not to wake Yuta, who fell asleep earlier that night across the room, and called out, “What’s up, Duckie?” 

The door opens with a creak, and he sees the face he’s seen a thousand times before, on all fourteen of their kids at one point in time. Donghyuck’s face is etched in guilt, and his fingers up at his mouth, nails bitten off out of anxiety. Ten knows he feels bad about Jeno’s nightmares, how he found out, he has no idea. He feels bad for the fire, which more than likely brought back all the unpleasant memories Jeno has been trying to suppress all these years. 

“Come here, you little gremlin,” Ten huffs out gently, his words void of any anger of sarcasm. He opens his arms to Donghyuck, who folds himself in them willingly, and sniffles quietly. 

“We didn’t mean to do that to him, Papa, we really didn’t.” He mutters. 

Ten hums comfortingly but otherwise stays quiet, knowing his kid doesn’t need any words, just someone to hold him while he cries, be there when he wakes up. And that’s what he’ll do. 

(Plus, he’s pretty sure Johnny fell asleep on the roof again, so his spot in the pallet won’t be missed. Ten half hopes it doesn’t rain, for poor Johnny’s sake, but doesn’t deny that a part of him would like to wake up to a soaking wet Johnny and a hilarious memory to look back on when this is all gone.)


	2. Chapter 2; Theft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kun should have expected his Wednesday to be full of surprises, considering their children. He made the mistake of thinking everything would be (somewhat) normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2!! i will post ages on the next chapter. there should be an update either every day or every other day, unless i have to go on a break for a bit, which i will let you guys know if that happens! enjoyyyyy!

Kun imagined a regular Wednesday as a quiet (ha, as if) day doing chores, cooking for their very large family full of ravaged monsters (a.k.a their teenage boys) who inhaled a plateful of food in a mere 3.4 seconds- maybe sitting down to read a novel, possibly taking a nap. 

He did not, however, imagine his Wednesday morning to be hauling three of his troubling children out of a police holding cell. 

They had the decency to look guilty, trailing behind him in a way similar to a litter of kicked puppies, and Kun had to stop himself from feeling bad for being so strict. He heard a voice in his head, which sounded suspiciously like Ten, telling him to toughen up. He rolled his eyes at the thought, Ten was just as bad as him when it came to puppy eyes and broken promises. He just liked to act like he was tough. 

When they turned the corner to get to the bus stop, Kun turned to examine his kids- Lucas looked nervous, playing with his fingernails, Yangyang looked disheartened, upset that he had gotten caught, and the oldest of three, the kid Kun had never, in a million years, thought he would have to haul out of a police station: Jungwoo, looked like he was on the verge of tears. 

The bus pulled up and stopped with a loud squeak in front of them. As the door slid open, Kun lightly pushed the teenagers forward, getting on last. He pointed a finger at Jungwoo when they looked for seats, optioning for the nervous boy to sit with him and leveling Yangyang and Lucas with a warning stare, meant to tell them to _please not do anything stupid._

Jungwoo sat next to Kun hesitantly, averting his eyes to look at the very tacky, and probably very dirty fabric of the seat beneath him. Kun tapped the boy’s hand to get his attention, and gently, but firmly, grabbed the boy’s chin when he didn’t look up. 

“Jungwoo.” Kun said, voice vague, hiding his intention behind his blank tone. Jungwoo’s eyes welled up with tears, and Kun took that as his queue to comfort the boy. 

“Hey, hey. I need you to talk to me, Woo. I can’t fix it unless I know, _baobei.”_ Kun told the crying boy gently. Jungwoo visibly relaxed at the tone, letting out a breath Kun didn’t know he was holding. 

“Bàba, they told me we were going out for ramen, and then after we ate, they said we should do something fun! But I realized we didn’t have any money to do anything and Yangyang... he said we didn’t need money, that he knew what we could do for free. And then he told me to take the stuff from Miss Chen. And I didn’t want to take it, I didn’t, I just did it because... well... I just did what Yangyang said, I’m sorry, Bàba!” Jungwoo exclaimed, earning a few glances from the other people on the bus, and a deadly glare from Yangyang for ratting him out. 

Kun shot a look at Yangyang, who eventually looked back down at the floor, and took Jungwoo’s shaking hand, “Woo. I know you’re sorry, I know. I know you meant no ill harm from it, but you are older than Yangyang, you know better, so does he, so does Lucas. I know this is uncharacteristic for you, but _baobei,_ you still shouldn’t have done it. It’s okay, everyone makes mistakes, but we all still have to learn from them. Taeyong and Johnny want to talk to you when you get back.” 

At the last statement of Kun’s soft lecture, Jungwoo looked like he was about to start crying again. Kun put an arm around the boy’s shoulders, trying to calm him down as the bus approached their stop. 

—-

“Yangyang, Lucas, now.” Kun ordered, sending Jungwoo off in the direction of Taeyong and Johnny, who pulled their normally well-behaved kid off gently. 

Yangyang looked like he was about to whine, and Lucas looked about ready to crap his pants. He motioned a hand for them to follow, which they did, if not reluctantly. He took the quiet walk down the hall as a refresher for his brain, a time to get his thoughts together. The kids were chaotic, and every day was different, filled with their own overwhelming adventures. Sure, their kids were wild, but they weren’t thieves, not anymore at least. If this had happened a few years ago, he could be bit more understanding, they were just kids stealing for their lives back then. But now? When they had a good home, a loving ragtag family, food to eat and clothes to wear? 

Kun pushed away his thoughts as he led them up the cemented stairs to Ten, who was waiting in their shared bedroom with Johnny and Yuta, and he had a look Kun could only describe as _‘Oh my GOD, how many times do I have to deal with monsters’._

The four entered the room, taking seats on crates with fluffy pillows and blankets cushioning them. That was Kun’s work, in an effort to make the abandoned factory more homey. He was proud of his handiwork. 

Once they were all sitting comfortably, Ten began, “How, in your right minds, would you think stealing from sweet little Miss Chen was a good idea?” 

Lucas spoke up timidly. “I don’t know, Papa, we weren’t thinking.” To which Ten replied with a dry “Obviously, Xuxi.” Lucas lowered his head at the remark.

“Yangyang?” Kun inquired. 

The boy in question sighed and looked Kun in the eyes- “We’re sorry, we really weren’t thinking. We didn’t mean to betray her trust, it was just old habit. I just... went back. To my old instincts. Bad habits die hard. I won’t do it again, and I’m really sorry I dragged Xuxi and Woo into it. Really, Bàba.” 

Kun let out a sigh and exchanged a questioning look with Ten, who nodded in response. Kun nodded back curtly and turned to address the two boys in front of them, “Miss Chen wants you to work for her. One month, all three of you, anything she needs will be your duty. No complaints! You’re lucky she likes you. It could have been much worse.” 

The two boys nodded quickly, and both got up to hug their parents- Yangyang curled under Kun’s arm, and Lucas basically hanging off Ten’s lap. And they stayed like that, comfortable in each other’s presence, enjoying the sweet silence that they once never had, until a very distressing “BÀBA, CHENLE IS HANGING OUT OF THE WINDOW AGAIN! HELP!” was yelled out by a very troubled Jisung down the hall. 

Kun sighed, he _really_ could never catch a break with these kids. Even if he loved them more than life itself, they were terrifying little gremlins, and were definitely not to be cared for by the faint hearted. (He learned that the hard way.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and constructive criticism helps a lot! thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3; Dusty Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The attic was filled with old, dusty memories. Beautiful memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ages: 
> 
> parents- not specified 
> 
> taeil- 16  
> winwin- 16  
> jungwoo- 16  
> lucas- 15  
> xiaojun- 15  
> hendery-15  
> mark- 15  
> donghyuck- 14  
> jeno- 14  
> renjun- 14  
> jaemin- 13 (by a few months)  
> yangyang- 13  
> chenle- 12  
> jisung- 11
> 
> enjoy!

Taeyong smiled softly at the sight in front of him- Chenle balancing Jisung on his thin shoulders, as Jisung grappled to get the attic door open. His fingers didn’t quite reach the latch, and he swung Chenle every time he tried to swipe at it. Chenle was trying very hard to keep Jisung, and himself, upright, huffing loudly as all the blood rushed to his face as he used all of his strength to keep his little (but taller and therefore heavier, curse the muscle weight) brother on his shoulders. 

The boys didn’t know Taeyong was watching them, and he didn’t want to tell them, in fear of Chenle dropping Jisung in shock. He watched them amusedly, hiding his quiet snickers behind his hand.

Why the boys were trying to get into their disgusting, dusty attic was beyond him, but it was too amusing to stop. He watched as they struggled to unlock the rusty latch- Jisung finally snagging it and pulling it open, Chenle jumping in victory, almost sending his brother to the floor in a lanky heap. Jisung kneed him in the shoulder for the movement, before crawling into the small space. He held out a hand to Chenle, who grabbed on and clambered up with him. 

Now that they boys were safe, and not in danger of breaking any necks in the wake of his arrival, Taeyong cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at them. He held back his chuckle as their eyes went wide at being caught- Chenle spluttering for an excuse and Jisung staring in shock. 

“Whatcha doing, boys?” Taeyong asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. Chenle whined at him and Jisung elbowed the boy in the stomach. 

A dramatic “OW!” followed. 

“Do you want the truth, or something you want to hear?” Jisung asked, smirking and holding back a giggle. 

“Truth, Sung. I would very much like to know why you two were doing a stunt like a pair of reject cheerleaders to get to our haphazard of an attic.” Taeyong replied, an amused smile delighting his features. Sure, he was a strict parent, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate their kids’ humorous adventures. They were memories he loved, memories he would hold onto for the rest of his life. 

“The attic is where you guys keep your old stuff. Like your school pictures! And baby photos,” Chenle exclaimed, snickering at the thought, “we just wanted to see them.” 

Taeyong shook his head, chuckling at them, “You guys always do things the hard way. You could have just asked one of us, y’know.” 

The two blushed but moved out of the way for their mom to accompany them in the small, grimy space. 

Taeyong crawled, as not to hit his head on the low ceiling, and dusted off a nearby box. He pulled it to him, coughing as the dirty powder hit his nose. He pulled of the worn lid, and pulled out the first few pictures. 

In his hands, he held the first pictures they ever took with Jisung. The boy had been adamant about not being photographed for the first few weeks he had stayed with them. Taeyong had to scold Johnny so many times in those weeks for trying to get photos of the then-little boy. Johnny lived for pictures, it was his way of keeping memories, but boy, did he go overboard sometimes. 

The picture in his hand was grabbed by an eager Chenle. He cooed at the photographed little boy in the middle of Taeyong and Yuta, dressed in oversized overalls. His cheeks were chubby, his smile was bright, and he looked so happy- the first time they had seen him actually look his age. No more sad grimaces, no more fear planted deep in his big eyes, or sorrowful expressions that aged him. 

Jisung had to grow up fast on the streets. Every kid did. But when a young, abandoned Jisung tried to pickpocket Yuta on the man’s way back from some odd job, and they brought him home to their growing family of misfits, he got to be a kid. A kid who laughed, had everything he needed, got into crazy schemes and had childhood memories that were happy, instead of ones he had to suppress. 

Jisung stared at the faded photo in his brother’s hand with a blank look on his face. To anyone else, he would look indifferent, but to Taeyong, he knew exactly what Jisung was thinking. 

Taeyong knew the melancholy-joy that came along with the memories of their past, the dark turned light by the hard work it took to build their family. 

Without a word, he took each boy’s hand, and let them look through Johnny’s picture collection. Chenle giggled at the pictures of him trying to ride a bike, Jisung traced over pictures of him and Yuta sleeping peacefully on a pallet. Taeyong watched as their faces changed with each picture, reminiscing, in a bittersweet way. Those moments were gone, yes, but there would be more. 

He was glad they both knew that. 

——-

When it was five o’clock and Taeil could not find Taeyong, even though it was his turn to make dinner, (Pa said so!), he started to panic. His mom never left without telling anyone! Taeil couldn’t help but jump to the worst conclusions. 

He rushed down the hall from the kitchen, hoping he could find the missing man in some room down the hall, safe and at home. Hopefully he had just forgotten it was his night to cook, and Taeil was overreacting. Taeyong probably just got too into one of his episodes of the soap opera he liked, and lost track of time. Taeil could just imagine him in front of their shared TV, shouting at some character named Angela to ‘Go and get him while you can! Don’t let him get away!’. He was probably okay. Right? 

The teen bit his lip, running up the cement stairs, and stopped when he saw the attic door ajar. His brow furrowed in confusion and he peeked up, chuckling when he saw the scene. 

He saw his sleeping mom curled up against one of the small, wooden walls of the attic, cradling the also sleeping Jisung and Chenle to his chest, a box of messily strewn photos laying in front of them. 

Taeil smiled, trying to ingrain the sight in his head. He tilted his head, silently laughing at the cuteness. 

He giggled, running off to find Doyoung, who was reading some thick book in their makeshift living room. 

“You’re making dinner tonight, sorry, Pa!” 

Doyoung groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone is confused about anything, let me know! comments motivate meeeee, so please leave some thoughts! see you next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4; Overload

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renjun just wanted the chaos to stop, he wanted everything to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this chapter is a bit heavier? t/w for sensory overloads and such. enjoy!

Renjun pushed around the food on his plate. A piece of meticulously spiced broccoli to the left, a scoop of sticky rice to right. If he spread it out enough, it would like he had eaten more than we he did eat- one bite of broccoli. 

The boy lost his appetite the moment he sat down at the table. When he saw his Otousan bugging Winwin and pinching his cheeks. When he saw Mark and Donghyuck completing each other’s sentences like those freaky twins on the TV shows Chenle loved. When he saw Jisung sitting in Jaehyun’s lap, letting out loud whines of “Appaaaa!” (even though everyone knew Jisung loved it. The youngest would never admit it.)

Renjun bit his lip, his mind warring over whether or not anyone would notice if he slipped away. His insides burned, much like his cheeks, and he lowered his head to cover the redness. His mind kept yelling at him, screaming for everything to stop, everything to shut up, everything to _stop._

The teen finally had enough when Hendery started yelling at Xiaojun for stealing his bread- loud, obnoxious shouts of “Bàba! He stole my bread!” and “Nuh-uh, this is mine, liar!”. Renjun made a run for it. His plate slid off the table and crashed against the floor. The volume of the sound, the thunderous _crack_ as the plate split into tiny, broken pieces propelled Renjun even further. He ran up the cement stairs, not caring enough to look below him. All he could think about was getting to somewhere dark, quiet. 

Everything after was a painful blur. The darkness hid the details from his memory. The only thing he remembered was being huddled in the corner of his, Jeno’s, and Jaemin’s shared room, lights out. He tried to stay still, urging his body to calm down, but he wasn’t strong enough to suppress his trembling hands. 

The cold air of the room hitting his nose reminded him of the sharp reality of the situation. As the teen breathed in the soft, chilly air, he teared up, thinking of the broken plate, the looks on his brother’s faces. The cuts on his bare feet from the shards (if only Chenle hadn’t suckered him into cuddling before dinner, he would have at least had some shoes on to protect him). His thoughts had been slowed by the steady breaths of cold air, but these memories sped them up again. Thoughts ran rampant, so fast he couldn’t hold them, couldn’t grasp them quick enough to understand their meaning. 

Renjun clenched his fists, fingernails digging into the soft skin of his palm. His eyes ached, his legs burned, he could barely register the searing pain caused by his fingernails. 

He couldn’t hide in here forever, Jeno and Jaemin would need in eventually. The door was locked, sure, but it did not stand a chance against his dad’s strength, and somebody would get in sooner or later. 

Renjun tried to control his senses, tried to feel anything other than this suffocating panic. It’s like his senses were drowning, garbling under heavy water, unable to reach shore. They were lost at sea, abandoning the boy in the face of his fears. 

He couldn’t decide whether he wanted someone to find him or not- a comforting presence would surely be welcomed, but he knew they would want to talk about it and the thought of telling anyone his suspicions, his locked away thoughts, petrified him. 

So there he stayed, torn between crying for help and drowning in his loneliness. 

——-

As soon as the plate hit the floor, the whole dining room was silent. Everything froze at the sound, even the two arguing brothers- Hendery’s mouth open, a retort dying on his lips. 

Taeyong recovered first, moving to grab a broom and dust pan. His movement seemed to trigger chaos- Jeno and Jaemin both made to follow Renjun, but were stopped by a solemn Yuta. The man gestured for them to sit down, and the two concerned boys did without hesitations- it wasn’t often they saw him look so serious. 

Taeil tried to help Taeyong clean up, but only succeeded in getting scolded for being reckless around the glass. Taeil scrunched up his nose in protest, mouth falling open. Before he could get any words out, though, Kun was at his side, nudging his shoulder to guide him back to his seat. 

The parents were huddled away at the head of the table, welcoming a concerned Kun and Taeyong into the conversation when they joined them. 

“Does anyone know what that was about?” Johnny asked, lips pursed in thought. 

Yuta was the one to answer, a hesitant expression playing across his features. He sighed, “I think he had a sensory overload.”

“Sensory overload?” Jaehyun inquired. 

“It’s an episode someone has when all of their senses seem to be in overdrive. I was placed in a group home with a girl who had sensory overloads when I was in the system. Different symptoms can occur, headaches, sensitivity to temperature, light, and sound. I’ve been suspecting it for a while, just haven’t caught a moment to talk to him about it.” Yuta explained somberly. 

Taeyong broke the small silence that followed the explanation, softly asking, “What does he need? How can we help him?” 

“I’m not completely sure that he’s actually having a sensory overload, but if he is, then he needs somewhere cool and dark- somewhere his senses won’t overwhelm him. That’s where he seems to go when this happens- it’s happened a few times before, it just hasn’t been as obvious as this time.”

Jaehyun nodded his head and replied carefully, “Maybe someone can bring him up some water, and some headphones? Doesn’t Mark have those noise-canceling earphones? I’m sure Renjun could borrow those.” 

“A comforting presence may help. Not overwhelming him with affection or conversation, but maybe someone just to be there with him?” Doyoung suggested. 

Ten spoke, for the first time since the conversation started, “I think Yuta should go up. He seems to know what’s best for Renjun right now, he knows the most about what’s happening.” 

Ten’s face was unreadable, but he looked Yuta square in the eyes. 

When Yuta nodded, Ten let out a breath, closing his eyes momentarily. 

With a conclusion reached, the adults all split off to take care of the rest of their kids- they knew Yuta knew where to find them if he needed backup, and that they would stay up late (with sleeping kids and a _lot_ of wine), and talk about what happened. 

Ten pulled Yuta aside as he started to walk away. The shorter of the two looked tired, and very concerned, a side of him that he only let the adults in the group see. He believed that the kids shouldn’t have to see his concern, and Yuta couldn’t blame him. 

“I wish I was the one to do this. I worry over that boy to no end, and I want to help him, but I know you are better equipped. Just, please, be there for him, since I can’t.” Ten said, voice low and soft, a tone he rarely used. 

Yuta nodded, a small smile stretching out on his lips. “He’s my son, too, y’know.”

Ten chuckled, rolling his eyes and slapping the taller man’s chest. “Then go help him, stupid.” 

“I was trying to! _You_ were the one who stopped _me-“_

He was cut off by a playful push.

——

A tentative knock at the door shook Renjun from his state. It wasn’t very loud, but it still made him shudder. 

He tried to force words out, tried to come up with an excuse for the person knocking- but the door was jimmied open before he could open his mouth. 

Yuta stood in the entrance to his room, shutting the door to block out the light. In his hands, he carried a pair of white headphones, a glass of water, and Ten’s blanket (the soft blue one he only let people have on the special-ist of occasions). 

Renjun was so relieved he could cry. He felt stinging tears welling up in his eyes, resurfacing from his recent sobs. He watched as Yuta carefully placed the blanket on his legs and bare feet, fixed the headphones over his ears gently, and guided the glass of water up to the teen’s lips. 

The water soothed his raw throat- sore from crying so much. He tried to find words to thank his Otousan, but nothing would come out. His head kept screaming at him and it was just too much to process. 

Thankfully, Yuta seemed to understand, shushing him quietly and putting a cautious hand on Renjun’s knee. 

——

From then on, it was decided that Yuta was Renjun’s helper when he felt like he was having a sensory overload. They had a family meeting about the situation- only when Renjun was ready, and they were sure about the occurrence- that Renjun indeed was having sensory overloads in private. 

But now, he had someone to hold him, when he felt okay enough to be touched. Someone to bring him water when his throat is burning, block out the noise when it makes his ears ache. 

And that was enough to take away the panic and guilt Renjun felt about the overloads. 

He had someone who was calm, who was there, so if he did have to go through those episodes, at least he didn’t have to go through them alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk if you guys have any questions! i look forward to comments and questions to answer ;) thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5; 15 Feet Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A teenage daredevil could lead to more than a broken wrist. And that would not happen on Xiaojun’s watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter! i personally love this chapter so much. it’s something light to make up for the (kinda) heavy chapter last time. enjoy!

Everyone knew Hendery was a climber. He was adventurous, fearless. He was tall and thin and strong, all traits that aided him in his dangerous hobby. It was tiring to deal with, but Xiaojun just had to learn to put up with his brother’s climbing habit. 

The first time he had been caught climbing was two weeks after they had taken him in. Looking back on it, really, it was surprising it took him that long to find something worthy of climbing. 

Hendery had been 11, much smaller than he was now, and he had found interest in the top of the refrigerator. Naturally, he decided to scale it- nearly sending Doyoung into cardiac arrest. 

That wasn’t anything compared to him climbing up the back wall of the factory, similar to what Xiaojun could only describe as like-freaking-Spiderman. Or like the time he tried to hoist himself up a street light. 

But this... _this_ was record-breaking, Xiaojun was sure. 

Hendery was, currently, balancing on top of an electrical wire. One careful foot in front of the other. He was trembling, and Xiaojun watched as his brother breathed steadily to settle his shaking limbs. One wrong move and... well, Hendery couldn’t afford a second broken limb this year. 

He had already broken his wrist that January from trying to climb on top of a _moving car._ The boy had fallen, and his wrist broke from the hard fall. Their parents had put him on “climbing probation”, a term specifically made for Hendery. He wasn’t allowed to climb anything- a rule he had already broken, several times- but _especially_ not without an adult there. 

A teenage daredevil without supervision could lead to worse things than a broken wrist. Which is what _this_ expedition of his would lead to if Xiaojun couldn’t find a way to get him down. 

Hendery had earlier monkey-crawled up the post in the backyard of the building, grabbing the thin wire between his hands. He carefully balanced himself on the wire, and everything was looking great. Hendery would complete his part of the game, the crazy (and not to mention dangerous) dare Yangyang had given him. He would get down safely, the parents wouldn’t know, and they could go back to their game of truth or dare. 

Until Hendery had let out a quiet “meep!” and shyly admitted he couldn’t get down. 

Which led to the chaos now- Yangyang, Chenle, and Donghyuck stood at the bottom if the electrical post, trying to cox Hendery down like a scared cat in a tree, and Xiaojun sighed. 

Only Hendery, his stupid brother, would manage to _get stuck on a wire,_ 15 feet in the air. 

——-

As they snuck down the stairs, so far avoiding any inquiring parents, Xiaojun shoved Chenle, who was in front of him, with his foot- a result of his arms being full of ~~stolen~~ borrowed quilts and blankets. 

“Hurry up! Hendery could fall and your slow butt will be to blame!” He told the younger boy sharply. 

Yangyang spoke up from behind him, “Ge, chill. Hendery will be fine. You’re scaring Chenle.” 

On cue, Chenle turned back to look Xiaojun in the eyes, and contorted his face into mock fear. He looked like a bad Hollywood actress in a cliche horror movie- eyes wide in fake terror, mouth open extremely and almost impossibly wide. 

Xiaojun rolled his eyes and snickered. “Turn around and carry the blankets, kid.” 

——-

A long thirty minutes later, (for both Hendery _and_ his brothers), the group had collected over 20 blankets from their parents’ and brothers’ bedrooms.

Donghyuck worked on the corners, like a puzzle. Chenle assisted him, and their small group worked from the outside in. Each blanket was connected at its four corners to a different blanket. They tied them in haste, only stopping their quick pace to check the tightness of the knots in the makeshift parachute to catch Hendery in. When they were sure their invention was finished and sturdy enough to catch the boy, they hauled it underneath the wire. They sent Chenle back inside to find some pillows to put under the blankets, just in case.

Xiaojun set down his corner of the tied together blankets to help Chenle place the pillows on the ground. They spread them out and fluffed them, only stopping when they heard a desperate yell of “HELP ME! I can’t hold on much longer, guys! MY ARMS HURT!” 

Donghyuck rolled his eyes, shouting back up in retaliation, “It’s your fault we’re in this situation!” 

_“My_ fault? Blame Yangyang!” 

“You could have refused, idiot!” 

“You know Yangyang would’ve come up with something way worse if I said no! Don’t act like such a-“ 

“OKAY, OKAY! STOP, BOTH OF YOU!” Xiaojun yelled, yanking up the blanket parachute and glaring at Hendery. 

Hopefully the blankets and pillows would be enough to break Hendery’s fall. Nobody wanted to face their parent’s concern (can be read as: wrath), if Hendery got hurt and they didn’t ask them for help. 

It would have been Yangyang’s fault, but all of them would be in trouble- it wasn’t like Hendery’s climbing ban was a secret. Everyone knew, and if the adults knew about the dare, and subsequently, Hendery getting stuck, they would all be screwed. 

Xiaojun closed his eyes, sighed, and looked at his brothers. With a collective glance, they decided they were ready, to _hopefully_ catch their brother. 

“Jump!” Chenle yelled up at the shaking boy. 

“Okay, okay, gosh- 3, 2, 1!” Hendery counted, letting himself fall. 

Xiaojun tightened his grip on their invention, using all his strength to keep it from falling and letting Hendery hit the ground. 

His brother landed, (safely, _thank god),_ and his other three brothers carefully laid him down on the pillows. 

“That was awesome!” Hendery whooped, high-fiving an excited Yangyang. Chenle fist-pumped the air and Donghyuck burst out in hysteric, relieved laughter at the situation. 

Xiaojun just let out a breath, before catching Hendery’s gaze. He glared at the younger boy and gritted out, “You have a five second head start before I kill you.” 

Hendery ran. 

——

Jaehyun was curled up on the couch, as Doyoung searched around for a blanket. An old episode of ‘Friends’ played on the TV, and the two decided they wanted to hang out to de-stress while the kids were occupied. 

But it was cold, and when Doyoung got up in search for a blanket, they came up empty. 

“Did you check the blanket box under the TV stand?” Jaehyun asked, getting up to pull out the big gray box. It was empty. That was odd. He could have sworn it was full last night when he cleaned up the living room. 

Both men froze at the telltale sound of Hendery screaming and loud footsteps following shortly after. They heard Xiaojun shouting profanities at his brother angrily, before both running boys flew past them. 

Jaehyun and Doyoung looked at each other, and the latter shook his head. 

“As long as they don’t kill each other, I don’t care. I don’t want to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you have any specific requests for a character, let me know! lord knows some inspiration would go a long way lol. see you next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6; Seven Years Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was seven years ago, exactly, when Kun found home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is just a sentimental mess hahahahahaha. also in the last chapter there was a formatting error and it is fixed now! anyways enjoyyy!

Seven years ago, today. Kun was just a street rat, trying to protect the two boys he was to look after. It was hard, back then. They never knew where their food would come from, where they would be staying. None of them had any constant in their lives, other than each other. Every night was a new place to sleep, every day was a new way for Kun to earn some type of money, so he could take care of Yangyang and Winwin. 

During the day, he made sure the kids were safe and hidden. Winwin was nine years old, and little Yangyang was just six. Too little to fend for themselves, too young to protect each other. 

While they stayed somewhere safe- out of danger, hopefully- Kun would go out and offer to take people’s trash to the dump, maybe cut someone’s grass. Anything to get a few dollars. 

He would do anything to provide for his kids. 

Kun knew they weren’t his, biologically. But they had always been _his._ Ever since he found them, ever since he took them in. Even before they started calling him “Bàba”. When the two Chinese boys started calling him such a personal name, he knew that they were family. Blood or not. 

So when he offered to cut the grass of an old factory, seemingly abandoned (but he knew better, you never assume), he was surprised when the four men- the owners, he thought- gave him food instead of money. Kun was grateful, food was very much appreciated, but he wondered if they could tell. Could tell that he wasn’t doing any of this for himself. Could tell that he was a street rat, scrounging around for whatever he could find. 

He returned every week, building a relationship with the people there. He learned about their lives. There was Ten, short and small, but extremely intimidating. A man named Johnny, tall and strong, funny in every sense of the word. Taeyong, slender and tall, broad in the shoulders, and a mother hen. Yuta, with his long hair, bright smile, and his sarcasm that made Ten laugh without fail. All four were protective of their three little boys.

Kun had learned all about _them,_ too. The men never stopped talking about them, they adored them. A sweet, gentle-natured boy named Taeil, the same age as Kun’s little Winwin. Mark, an awkward but extremely giggly kid, who made the man smile. Donghyuck, a mischievous boy with a grin brighter than the sun. The boy reminded him of Yangyang. 

Kun found himself wishing he had something like this, where he and his boys could be comfortable- like this family was. 

And as Kun cut the grass of the factory, and listened to Taeyong and Johnny’s animated stories, he found himself believing that dream was more possible than he once thought. 

——

When he came home, Winwin and Yangyang were always excited to see him. The man always came bearing food, and the boys were so hungry. 

Yangyang would always tackle him first, squeezing him tightly and uttering words Kun couldn’t hear. Winwin would approach quietly only after Yangyang let go, hugging his Bàba’s leg softly in greeting. 

They would sit, eat, and they would talk. Sometimes about Kun’s day, sometimes about the silly stories Yangyang would make up, sometimes about Winwin’s odd dreams. 

But the most requested topic of conversation were Kun’s stories. His boys always loved to hear them, and he could never find it in his heart to deny them. Not after all they had been denied. He was glad he could give them something to find comfort in, even if it was just a figment of his imagination. 

One night, when Yangyang began to beg to hear a story, Kun knew exactly what to talk about. He told them about a happy family, of people just like them. People to love them and look after them, friends to play with, never having to worry about anything. 

As he finished up his story, and tucked Winwin and Yangyang into their ratty, hand-me-down blankets, he hoped they could have that too. 

——

When Ten invited Kun in for a drink after he finished his work in their yard, there was no way he was going to refuse. He was so thirsty, and he trusted these people. Even if he hadn’t known them for very long. 

They entered the old factory, and Kun shouldn’t have been surprised at how homey it was, but he didn’t expect it to actually look like a home. On the outside, it was chipped and rusty, nothing appealing. But the inside was completely different; it was decorated with mixed-and-matched couches and comfy chairs, there were big plush carpets covering the cemented floor, lamps and books and even a TV in their living room! 

He could only imagine what the kitchen looked like, or what the stairs led too, but Ten told him to take a seat before he could ask. He sat down, still ogling at the factory-turned-home around him, as Ten disappeared into the kitchen to get drinks. 

When he returned, Ten handed Kun a glass of lemonade and sat down across from him in the homey living room. He had a look on his face Kun had never seen before- normally he was grinning mischievously (maybe that’s where Donghyuck got it from), or he looked unimpressed, amusedly so. 

But now, his face was serious. He seemed to be open and honest, something that didn’t seem very “Ten” of him. (Then again, who was Kun to say that? He has known the man for three months, not his whole life.) 

Ten cleared his throat. “We wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“'We?' Where’s everybody else, then?” Kun inquired, looking around the empty room.

“They decided I would be the one to talk to you.” 

Kun felt like he was young again, about to get scolded by his mother. 

“Okay.” He mustered out, a feeling of uneasiness settling in his stomach. 

“You must be curious about this place, how we found it, how it is what is now. I would like to tell you the story.” 

——

The rest was history. A bond was formed between the five men, a bond forged by similar experiences and struggles. After Kun learned about the men’s pasts, impossibly synonymous to his, he knew that he could trust them. 

Trust was hard to earn, but Yuta, Ten, Johnny, and Taeyong earned it. 

It started with play dates with the five kids, Kun’s and the other mens’. Winwin adored Taeil, and Yuta adored Winwin just as Kun did. Donghyuck, Mark, and Yangyang were inseparable- inevitably causing mischief. 

Kun became not only Winwin and Yangyang’s Bàba, but Mark, Donghyuck, and Taeil’s too. It didn’t happen fast, but it didn’t have to. 

Kun’s two little boys warmed up to the other adults, and began seeing them as parents too. The three of them moved in. 

Their lives weren’t automatically fixed- but they did have a home now, and food, and a bit of money. They still had issues, the kids still needed to be protected, tough decisions had to be made. But they had a family now. And that’s all that mattered. 

——

So now, as Kun watched over all fourteen of his sleeping kids, curled up around each other in the massive fort in the living room, and he looked at his best friends, who were each cuddled up against a kid- he knew he wouldn’t trade this for the world. 

Even if Chenle and Jisung attempted to make him an anniversary cake and nearly burned down the kitchen. (Again.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! if you want to leave a prompt or something, that’d be appreciated. see you next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7; Sugar, Butter, Flour- Don’t Let Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s never really been much of a problem... until when they start receiving six cakes in a day from Doyoung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiiiiii. i was kind of just listening to waitress and i got inspiration ??? thank you my beautiful, wonderfabulous, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious editor, my sweet little bby loulou!! alright enough notes, enjoy the chapter!

Preheat the oven to 360. 

Mix flour, sugar, milk, butter, eggs, and a teaspoon of vanilla. 

Stir and add chocolate chips to the mix. 

Pour into cupcake pan, cook for seventeen minutes, _exactly._

Mix together icing and pipe carefully. 

Doyoung’s perfect cupcake recipe. 

——-

It wasn’t a problem. He was fine, okay? This was his way to relieve stress. And it’s not like any of the others could complain, when he was tense, they always got warm, mouth-watering treats as a result; creamy marshmallow-puff cupcakes, divinely rich tiramisu. 

Their kids looked forward to when Doyoung stress-baked (as terrible as it sounds), and would tear apart the pastry in seconds flat. 

So when Doyoung gave Lucas- his _always_ hungry son- a pan of his favorite kind of muffins, and Lucas fake-smiled at him, Doyoung knew something was up. 

But he wasn’t too concerned, and he chalked it up to Lucas having an off-day. 

It wasn’t until Doyoung had bought his sixth batch of ingredients in a week that he understood why Lucas was not eager to eat the muffins, and why everyone was accepting his tasty gifts with a hesitant smile. 

——

Doyoung hummed quietly as he unpacked his newly bought ingredients onto their counter. His mind was not on the recipe, or the pastry, however, his thoughts wandered, thinking of the upcoming date of his late parent’s anniversary. 

He hadn’t known them very long, he was only three when they passed away due to a drunk driving accident. Doyoung only knew them because of the stories, the tales of their interesting life his grandma told them before he was taken away. Before he lost the only connection to his family he had. 

Doyoung stopped short of emptying a plastic grocery bag- a pang in his heart freezing his limbs. He reached up to his neck, shakily searching for the necklace with his birth parents’ rings on it. When the man caught it between his trembling fingers, he ran them over the metal, tracing the grooves. He willed the stinging tears in his eyes to hold. He would not fall apart, that’s not who he was. 

He was stronger than that. His tears would not fall just yet. 

——

Jaehyun watched from the doorframe. He watched as Doyoung mixed together the batter, poured it into the cake pan. 

He only interrupted when Doyoung put the cake in the oven. 

“Hey,” he started hesitantly. Why did _he_ have to be the one to break the news to their resident stress-baker? 

Doyoung’s head whipped around in surprise. “Hey?” 

Jaehyun could sense the man’s suspicion in his words, and his ears started burning. 

“So, okay, um-“ 

“What is it, Jae? I have to make icing before the cake gets out of the oven.” Doyoung sighed, chuckling a little under his breath. 

“Well, it’s actually about that.” Jaehyun replied, willing himself to stop feeling so guilty. This needed to be said, even if it made him feel bad. It was for their family. 

“What? Baking?” 

“Yeah. Um, we saw how much you’ve been spending on ingredients and we didn’t want to say anything,” Jaehyun sighed, “but it’s gotten to a point now where we have to slow you down a little bit.” 

“Slow me down?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow at him, and Jaehyun felt exasperated and anxious at the same time. 

“We know it’s because you’re stressed, and this is your hobby, but we also have twenty-one people living in this home.” Jaehyun winced at how harsh he sounded, “You’re spending too much. We need enough to provide for the kids before ourselves. And... with you spending a lot, that’s getting a bit harder. We’re not made of money, Doie. We are _still_ street rats.” 

Doyoung sighed in response, nodding slowly. “Sorry. Yeah. I’ll stop. The kids matter more. I wasn’t thinking about that.” 

Jaehyun smiled, and hugged Doyoung gently before dipping his finger into the remaining batter on the bottom of the bowl. “Mmm... that’s good!” 

“That has raw eggs in it, dummy.” 

——-

Doyoung kept true to his promise. He really did. He stopped buying ingredients. 

Unfortunately, that did not stop the large amount of pastries he made. 

Instead of using his normal ingredients, like chocolate chips and marshmallow cream, he started using things he found in their dusty cabinets, and in the back of the refrigerator. 

Tomatoes and cottage cheese it was, then. 

The kids stopped hiding their distaste for the pastries and openly showed their disgust when Doyoung gave Jeno a batch carrot and sour cream cupcakes. 

All he received, in contrast to eager responses, were gags and petrified stares (mostly from Donghyuck and Chenle.) 

Jeno, being the sweet, selfless kid he is, smiled gratefully, and even took a bite out of it took assure his Pa he liked it. 

If Jeno spit it out and chucked the cupcakes into their compost bin when Doyoung left the room... _well,_ what his Pa didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

——

Members of their family continued to receive cakes with questionable ingredients. Xiaojun was given a cauliflower and sea salt caramel cake, Taeyong was gifted a vegetable tiramisu, and Mark was given an eggs-and-bacon flavored pound cake. 

It was a problem. 

Doyoung wasn’t stupid, he knew that none of these ingredients would taste good together, and he knew that nobody liked them. It took him a few days to realize, but he did, nonetheless. 

So he stopped. Completely. Didn’t go into the kitchen unless he had to cook for dinner, didn’t even open the ingredients cabinet. 

He tried to block out his worries, tried to block out the memories of his grandma’s stories about his parents. He tried to suppress the sorrow that came along with the approaching date. 

Doyoung ignored it all.

——

Taeyong noticed. Doyoung was his best friend, co-parent, the Tom to his Jerry. 

(Or maybe it was the other way around. He could never remember.) 

He stared as Doyoung gave out his unappetizing treats, and chuckled at their kid’s disgusted faces. He watched as the younger man just _stopped._ Like the flick of a switch. 

Taeyong started to get concerned when he saw his best friend begin to tear up when he saw the kids telling each other animated stories, when he started to bite his fingernails and worry his lip. 

Something was wrong with Doyoung. He wasn’t baking, and he was even more stressed than he was before. 

Taeyong didn’t have a solution- he had no idea how to help the younger man. He continued to ponder over the course of the next week, watching closely and racking his head for an effective answer for Doyoung. 

He was stumped- until he and Mark passed a shop downtown while spending some time together. 

Mark must have sensed his mom’s gears turning, because he asked, “What are you planning, Ma?” 

——-

If you asked Taeyong if this was his idea, he would deny it. The man would never admit it in a million years. 

It was purely their innocent, angel-like _(ha!)_ children’s idea. Their children who, Doyoung could never- say, push down the stairs, or chuck off the building’s roof like he could do to Taeyong. 

He hid his snickers when Jisung and Jeno brought Doyoung his gift- and he had to bite his fist to keep from letting out his hysterical laughter. Doyoung looked inside the big, wicker basket and saw what was lying there. 

_“Knitting?_ Really?” He exclaimed, his eyes wide and offended.

Taeyong knew he chose the right children to deliver this gift when Jeno gave Doyoung his patented puppy eyes and Jisung pouted cutely. “Don’t you like it, Pa?” 

Doyoung opened and shut his mouth several times, before deciding on a strained ”That was very thoughtful, boys. Thank you.” 

Taeyong left the room quickly, bellowing in loud laughter when he was out of Doyoung’s earshot. 

——-

Needless to say, even against his protests that he “was _not_ a grandma”, the knitting was a great solution at first. Doyoung would knit when one of their boys asked about it to prove he didn’t hate the gift. He soon got addicted to the hobby, just as Taeyong thought he would. 

Doyoung began to knit more and more as the date of his parent’s anniversary approached, knitting whole cardigans and sweaters. 

The kids were grateful at first, but as they got more and more itchy and knitted clothing, their family began to realize that it was a problem. 

Taeyong and Jaehyun just sat back and laughed- at least their money wasn’t being completely spent on ingredients, they had plenty of yarn in their attic from past school projects and Kun’s crafting collection.

——-

On the dreaded day, Doyoung knitted just one sweater. 

It was blue. 

He knitted it in a fashion similar to the grooves on the rings that dangled from his neck. 

Nobody said a thing when he wore the sweater for the next few days, no one said a word when he cried in Johnny’s arms every night for the next week. 

Instead, the kids tried to show him their support with their actions; the older ones made _his_ favorite cake, and the younger ones stole some of his yarn and attempted to knit him some... _thing? ___

__(It was the thought that counts, right?)_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thankssss my bbys! leave any requests or prompts if you have them. see you next chapter, stay safe!


	8. Chapter 8; Dance The Night Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chenle couldn’t help but feel guilty- he loved dance, but it was not important enough for his dad to overwork himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii! here’s a chapter woot woot. please everyone stay safe! enjoy the chappppp!

Chenle sat on the edge of his bed, watching a jittery Jisung pace around the room in a flurry of anxious movement. He wasn’t listening as Jisung spewed on about god knows what- Chenle knew that the younger boy couldn’t control his fast-paced thoughts, and therefore, he also knew Jisung could not slow down his motor-mouthed monologue. 

The Chinese boy was just as nervous as his brother, anyone would be. It was their first showcase since they began dancing at the humble dance studio just down the street. 

This was important. The two worked so hard for this day, all that sweat and out-of-breath late night practices. This was an opportunity the two had to take advantage of. 

Chenle knew why they had been able to take dance lessons. Jisung was still blissfully ignorant. Chenle had a habit of eavesdropping, and his nosy nature never led to learning anything good- _that’s why the parents talk in private,_ he guessed.

His most recent eavesdrop was after he and his only younger brother asked about dancing. The answer they were expecting was no, but when their dad said he would discuss it with the others, they were pleasantly surprised. 

Jisung was bouncing off the walls the rest of the night, exclaiming about “how much fun it’s going to be!”. Chenle had giggled with him, the two only quieted by a sleep-deprived and grumpy Renjun. The oldest of the three told them not to get their hopes up, and pushed them out of his room with a tired “Go to sleep, hooligans”. 

Chenle let Jisung go ahead of him down the hallway, telling him he would be down there soon. As soon as Jisung disappeared into their shared room, Chenle sprinted off to the kitchen, where Johnny was talking to Taeyong and Ten in hushed tones. 

The boy had hidden behind the door, which luckily for him, not closed all the way. He watched through the crack, straining to hear the words being exchanged between the three adults. 

He hadn’t caught much, but what he did hear made him uneasy. 

“I want them to dance. If it’s what... love... I’m willing.” Johnny’s quiet voice cut in and out like bad signal over a phone call. 

“Are... sure? You better not... overwork... self.” That was Papa. The shortest of the three, but the most intimidating by far. Chenle shuddered as he thought about how scary Ten was when Yangyang pranked him- the outcome was a pink-haired, angry Ten and Yangyang hiding in Chenle’s closet. Chenle thought it was funny at the time, as he had not been the one to face Ten’s wrath, but now that he was hearing the familiar stern tone, it made him feel like he did something wrong. 

_Which, he kind of is,_ he supposes. Eavesdropping wasn’t exactly model behavior. 

Chenle was shaken out of his reverie by Taeyong raising his voice from the earlier whisper, reaching a conclusion. “Alright. If you’re sure, that’s alright with us. We can each chip in.” 

“It’s not just for the dance, either- we would have extra money for doctor appointments and such.” Johnny replied, smiling gratefully, and bringing a hand up to squeeze Ten’s shoulder, who still looked to be in protest. 

Taeyong seemed to be leaving the kitchen, leaving the two other adults to themselves, and Chenle’s eyes widened at the thought of being caught. Before his mother-figure could reach the door, he crept away and started running as fast as he could to the nearest room. 

Once he made it to an empty room, gasping for breath and his heart racing, he slammed the door behind him and pressed his back up against the cool surface. 

He sorted through the moment he just witnessed, trying to put everything together. Chenle knew that Johnny was trying to come up with money for he and Jisung to be able to dance, and he felt slightly guilty at he notion of Johnny picking up another job or trying to scrape up funds for them. 

Dancing was important to the two, but not important enough to force their dad to overwork himself. 

—-

And that was what Chenle thought back on as he was pulled away by his younger brother, duffle bag clutched tightly in the Chinese boy’s shaking hands. Jisung had a grip on Chenle’s ear, tugging it harshly as he hopped down each step. The older let out a painful groan and swatted at his brother’s hand, but Jisung was too excited to notice. 

Jisung pulled him down the stairs, past their brothers who all yelled out encouraging praises and patted their backs as the two youngest boys flew through their makeshift house and out the door, pop-tarts shoved in their hands by Taeyong. 

Chenle tried to settle the anxiety in his stomach. It made him want to throw the pop-tart on the sidewalk as they made their way to the dance studio. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew that if he didn’t eat his Bàba would scold him later and force him to eat something- so it was just better to shove the pop-tart down and deal with his sick stomach later. 

The dance studio wasn’t far from their home, probably only one or two blocks, Chenle wasn’t sure. He and Jisung had been too excited the first time they skipped down the path, smiling brightly and anticipating the next few hours. 

Now, he was too anxious to notice anything other than his thoughts. 

Too soon, they were walking through the front door, the chill air hitting them softly and the bell letting out a little _ring-ding_ upon their arrival. 

Chenle stayed quiet as their dance teacher pulled them away to the changing rooms. He put on the costume he and Jisung were to wear quickly, trying to steady his breathing. 

He stayed in the dressing rooms longer than he knew, closing his eyes and rubbing the pads of his thumbs against his pointer finger. It was a technique Ten had taught him to ground himself- anxiety wasn’t anything new to any of them. 

Chenle only exited the small room when an inquiring Jisung knocked on the door, urging him to come rehearse with him. 

—-

Chenle looked at the clock- it read 1:00. 

He was backstage, smushed up against his brother and their friends from class, a freckled boy named Felix and his twin, Jisung. The four met as beginners, bonding over being new, and bonding over what Chenle and his younger brother later learned, that Felix and Jisung lived in a group home. They built a relationship on their similarities in lifestyle, and found that Felix and his twin were great friends. 

(Felix and Chenle had also found it hilarious when both of the Jisungs would look up when their names were called. It turned into an inside joke, but to avoid confusion, they eventually started called Felix’s Jisung “Han”.)

Felix was radiating stress, his legs bouncing and his doe eyes wide. Han clasped his hand, calming him down in a way only twins could. 

Chenle and Jisung weren’t in a much better state, both anxious and feeling pressured. 

In just a few minutes, they would be going out and performing for their families- showing them all they had worked so hard for. And that was nerve wracking.

—-

Soon, they were called to be on deck, the next to dance. The four held hands, giving each other silent strength as the dancers before them walked off stage, and the lights went down, signaling their entrance. 

Chenle breathed in one more deep breath, grasping to get a handle on his nerves, and assumed his beginning position. 

But when the lights came up, and the music started, his fear melted away. He let his body lead him, gliding in the familiar movements he had spent the last month perfecting. 

—-

When they exited the stage, Chenle’s body relaxed, fingers no longer clenched to his palms, leaving sharp indentions. He smiled at his brother and their friends, and as soon as they got backstage, they jumped up and down, exhilarated. 

The showcase ended, and Chenle watched as Felix and Han’s dad, a handsome (and very _pale?)_ man engulfed his sons, hugging them tightly. Their teacher seemed to know him- by the sounds of his excited “Chan!”. 

Chenle felt the creeping anxiety he had carried around earlier resurface. Would their parents be proud of them too? Would their dad’s hard work to let them dance go to waste? 

But when he turned to the door, and saw Johnny standing there, proudly beaming, he pushed those thoughts away. 

—-

(The rest of their family was proud, too. Chenle and Jisung were pestered by their siblings attempting terrible renditions of their dance for the rest of the week.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave any thoughts or comments down below! have a good dayyyy! see you next chap, bbysss!


	9. Chapter 9; Mistake? No, More Like A Good Oopsie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donghyuck was brought into Ten’s life by accident. 
> 
> Quite literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... it’s been three months? i’m sorry, you can yell at me in the comments lol. this chapter took a bit longer since everything i wrote just didn’t make me satisfied. i didn’t want to upload something i wasn’t semi-proud of, so it took a loooong time. i’m back tho. enjoy!

Donghyuck was brought into Ten’s life by accident. 

Quite literally. 

Ten’s boyfriend, at the time, was a handsome street dancer, by the name of Hansol. They had been dating for around three years, and lived in a small, dilapidated apartment smack-dab in the middle of the city. 

The bad condition of their apartment never bothered Ten, he was head over heels for Hansol, and as long as they were together, the circumstances didn’t matter. Ten dedicated everything he had to Hansol- which wasn’t very much, just a few savings and a lot of love. He cooked breakfast every morning, something he hated doing. He made sure his boyfriend had a good packed lunch and some clothes clean. He tried so hard- but his boyfriend’s appreciation wasn’t as reciprocated. 

Johnny, Ten’s best friend since middle school, was the most supportive person he had ever met. When Ten had needed a place to stay, Johnny was the one he went to. When Ten had confided in him about his past troubles, Johnny was supportive of and kind. So when Johnny told Ten of his suspicions of Hansol using the boy, he trusted his best friend. 

Ten filed away Johnny’s concerns in the back of his mind, observing his boyfriend of three years more carefully. He started realizing Hansol’s absence when it came to their relationship, how little effort was being given from his boyfriend. 

Ten never knew when to confront him- until Hansol came back too late one night, piss drunk and delusional. He had lipstick stains on his white collared shirt, and bruises on his neck. 

That night was the night Ten packed up his things and left. 

Johnny welcomed him with open arms, let him cry throughout most of the night, and even made him breakfast the following morning. 

Ten never said anything else to Hansol, having to much anger to even think about him without sobbing in fury and having to call out of work for a few days. Johnny took great care of him, and the two were pretty happy. 

Until precisely nine months later, when Hansol showed up at Johnny’s apartment while he had been out to get groceries. Ten heard the knock and opened the door, expecting to see their kind, elderly neighbor visiting to offering more homemade lasagna. 

“Miss C- Hansol?” Ten asked, his brow furrowed with confusion and anger at the unexpected visitor. 

“Chitt-“ 

“You need to leave. Now.” Ten closed the door forcefully, and with the loud bang it gave, his heart shattered for the second time. 

A few hours later, Ten had almost forgotten the exchange, caught up in cooking dinner and folding the laundry Johnny brought up from the mat a floor below them. He had just turned off the stove and was washing his hands, ready to sit down when he heard another knock. 

He froze, taking in a deep breath and settling into a numb mindset- one he had practiced just for moments like these. If Hansol wanted to talk, he wouldn’t be getting the old Ten. 

He opened the door, face stone cold when his eyes landed on his pitiful-looking ex-boyfriend, standing at his door with a expression similar to an abandoned puppy’s. If that puppy was a lying, cheating, piece of trash, that is. 

“What do you want, Hansol?” 

“Please... just- help me.” 

The statement jostled the man a little, out of all the years he had known Hansol, he had always been stupidly independent- and he had _never_ once asked for Ten’s help.

“Help you?” He asked, curiosity leaking through his neutral tone. 

“Just, come down to the apartment with me. Please.” 

Ten bit his lip, nodding hesitantly, and shooting Johnny a text, informing him of the situation, and if he wasn’t back within the hour to come check on him- or better yet, call the police. 

A long and uncomfortable fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Hansol’s apartment, Ten walking in to the familiar space cautiously. He scanned it warily, noting how it all looked exactly the same. 

“What do you need help with, Hansol? I don’t need to be here.” He bit out, trying to lessen the pang in his heart. 

His ex opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a baby’s wail.

Ten’s mouth fell open, his heart sinking into his stomach. “Is that- Is that a baby?” 

Hansol nodded, a tired sigh leaving him as he walked to their- no, his, bedroom. The wails only increased and he retuned with a small baby, adorable even while screeching.

Ten made a split second decision, striding towards the two and gently taking the baby into his arms. He shushed softly until the child quieted, leaving an awkward silence between Hansol and Ten. 

It was broken when the younger teared up, whispering, “Take him. Please.” 

Ten wanted to be shocked. But when he heard the words come from Hansol’s mouth, all he could feel was disappointment at his predictable behavior. But before he could say anything in respite, Hansol started speaking again, faster than the Ten had ever heard him talk. 

“When you left- you left because of her. It was a drunk mistake, but she got pregnant. I can’t take care of him- and you are the only person that I can think of that can. You took care of me so well and I never realized how much I needed you until you were gone. I can’t even take care of myself anymore, so please- just take him.” 

—

And that’s how Ten ended up holding a month old baby on the floor of Johnny’s apartment, while they both sobbed. As soon as Johnny saw the child, it seemed like he knew- a sad smile on his face and keys in his hand, off to the store to buy baby- things...? Ten didn’t know. 

All he knew was that he was only an hour in- he had no idea what he had just agreed to, or how to go forward, but the look in this kid’s eyes made him forget all the worries. 

God, he was already whipped, wasn’t he? 

—

Donghyuck ran into Ten’s room, eyes downcast. 

Ten shook himself away from the box in front of him, filled with his son’s baby things. As soon as he saw Donghyuck, he sighed, taking his hand and sitting him down on the bed with him. The teenager hid his face in Ten’s shoulder, crying softly. 

“Shh, Donghyuckie, shh,” he cooed gently, combing his fingers into the boy’s knotted hair. In any other situation, Ten would have rolled his eyes and jabbed at the boy for his bedhead, but now was not the time.

14 years ago. Such a long time, but not to him. 

Ten sighed, dropping the photo of him and his son into the ratty box, and took his son into his arms. 

Maybe it was fate, all this time. Maybe he was supposed to have his reckless, crazy, adorable son, maybe Hansol was supposed to disappear from his life. 

All Ten knew, was that chilly evening, in his old apartment with his ex-lover, he made the right choice leaving with that baby. _His_ baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment and thank you for reading! see you soon.


End file.
